


Diner

by 8BagelWho0



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8BagelWho0/pseuds/8BagelWho0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Sam, and Cas at a roadside diner.  Requested ficlet fluff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diner

Sam shifted on the barstool, grimacing. “You calling him?” he said, poking his mostly wilted salad around with his fork.

“Dude, don’t pick at your food, you’re not seven anymore,” Dean shot back, pacing a little as he held his cellphone to his ear. “And yeah, I- Cas? Hey, buddy, we need you to get your ass over to- What? No, don’t do that, of course she was freaked out, you can’t just tell someone that their grandmother is resting peacefully, people don’t say things like that to people they don’t know…”

Sam grinned a little, continuing to stab and push around his salad. Dean rolled his eyes. “What is with angels, man?” he whispered. “No, Cas, I wasn’t talking to you, I was… Okay, look, we’re over at Red Hot Diner off the interstate near-”

There was a flutter of wings, and Cas was suddenly standing in between Sam and Dean. The very small space in between Sam and Dean. Dean immediately staggered back, while Sam dropped his fork. Dean glared at Cas. “Are you crazy?!” he hissed, looking around quickly. “There are people here!”

Cas looked around. The night-shift waitress had gone into the back, leaving only one other inhabitant, a disheveled vagrant in the corner who happened to be dozing.

“I think we’re okay,” Sam said.

“What is it, Dean?” Cas said, taking a seat on the stool beside Sam.

Dean sat down next to Cas. “Okay, look, we’ve been tracking this thing for…what, five days?”

“Yeah, five days.”

“And the sneaky son of a bitch keeps slipping through our fingers. I mean, the shifter isn’t exactly A-list, but he’s being a pain in the ass, and we were wondering—”

“If I could locate the unholy creature and dispatch him,” Cas said, nodding slowly. He looked around. “Where are we exactly?”

Dean looked at him for a moment. “A diner. Now, about the monster—”

“Oh yes, you said it was a diner. Do they have pie here then?”

“…What?”

“Pie. You’re always asking for pie, is this where you get it?”

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Uh, Castiel, we need you to use a silver blade to kill this thing, and—”

Sam and Dean looked over at the waitress as she swung open the kitchen doors and sulked over to the counter. She was well past her thirties and not looking too happy about that fact. “Anything I can get you?” she asked Cas through half-shut eyes, a toothpick sticking out of the left side of her mouth.

Cas folded his hands together and straightened his back. “I’d like some pie, please,” he said gravely.

The waitress looked at him for a moment. “You want coffee with that?” she finally muttered.

Cas’s eyes widened. “Uh, no thank you, just the pie, please.”

“Suit yourself, honey. I think we have some in the back… Hey Steve!” she suddenly shouted. Dean and Sam grimaced. “Eve with a lid on, okay?”

Cas’s face paled a little. “Wh-what was that you said?”

The waitress shrugged. “We’re supposed to talk like that, all that old diner talk. Just doing my job. Gotta say a lot of weird things. ‘Drown the kids,’ ‘zeppelins in a fog,’ ‘Noah’s boy’…”

“Oh, I knew Ham, actually.”

“What?”

“Thanks,” Dean said, smiling pointedly at the waitress. She shrugged again and went back to the kitchen.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Sam and Dean said in unison.

Cas looked from one to the other. “I was just making ‘small talk.’”

“That’s not small talk, that’s blowing our cover!”

“What cover?”

“The cover that we’re not crazy people!”

“Cas, look, we need you to take care of that monster,” Sam said, exasperated.

“Oh I took care of that already,” Cas replied. “You really need to pay attention.”

The waitress returned with a slice of apple pie. “There you go, fresh from the freezer,” she said dully before returning to the back.

A fly buzzed somewhere. Sam stuck some lettuce in his mouth. “I guess that’s that, then,” he mumbled through the food.

“Good job, Cas,” Dean added.

“Pie is interesting,” Cas replied, chewing thoughfully. “But…good. I think I like it. Or this body likes it.”

Dean grabbed a fork from the counter and sliced off a chunk of pie. “Dude, pie is the best.”

“You could eat a real meal sometimes, Dean,” Sam said, grinning a little.

“Shut up, Sam. I can’t hear you over the sound of my man food!”

“I can hear him perfectly well,” Cas said.

“Shut up, the both of you, and let me eat in peace.”


End file.
